


All That's Left

by yellowflowers



Category: Darkiplier - Fandom, Who Killed Markiplier, Wilford Warfstache - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dark's pov, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Isolation, M/M, Regret, Who Killed Markiplier - Freeform, breakdowns, dark/wilford can be read as a friendship, good ending, i wrote this fic to cope and to comfort myself, they're not exactly happy? but they're ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowflowers/pseuds/yellowflowers
Summary: ---Dark comforts Wilford and he's reminded of their past. As time passes, he remembers someone they left behind.---





	All That's Left

\---

 

Wilford was in one of of his laughing fits. The ones that would make tears spring in his eyes and make his belly ache and his cheeks sore. Dark sometimes wonders if the man had simply forgotten about what had happened so long ago. He wonders if it would really be better that way. 

 

Wilford’s laughter trails off and Dark wishes it were that simple.

 

\---

\---

 

Dark turned away from the shattered mirror and clutched the cane in his hands. He was dizzy. He thought he could hear the district attorney’s cries of confusion and how they pounded on the other side of their prison. He can feel...guilt. This is quickly swept away and he forces himself to the door. He just needed to leave it all behind right now and make a plan-

 

“Damien??”

 

He could hear the Colonel’s manic laughter echoing throughout the manor and stops. He can’t leave without him. He has to get to him. Before he can hurt himself. 

 

_ ‘Honestly, he’s a good man. But he’s dangerous now…’ _

 

That’s what she said, wasn’t it? The woman, the seer, what was her name? Celine?

 

“Celine!! Damien! Ha- You can come out now!! Ha- this was all very funny! Ha Ha!”

 

Dark turned and stumbled towards the Colonel’s booming voice. He still needed some time to adjust to this new body, but he’d have it under control soon enough. The cane would just have to assist him for now.

 

“Damien!! I know how much you used to love games in our youth! Ha ha! Do you remember how we would run and play?? And now ha- you’ve got Celine to play along too!!”

 

Dark drew closer to him and saw him ambling about, looking in all the rooms. He seemed intent on leaving no doors closed, no stone unturned. He was still calling out for his friends. 

 

“Colonel?”

 

He whirled around. “Damien! Ha ha! My dear old friend, ha- don’t surprise me like that! This whole prank of yours was ha ha! Quite funny! You always loved a good joke, didn’t you? Ha ha! Help me find Celine, so we can all have a good laugh!”

 

Dark didn’t know what to say, but he looked at the man in front of him and he seemed  _ desperate _ . He needed to hear the truth about his friends, he deserved that much. Dark carefully reached out to him and set his hands on his shoulders, hoping that the news wouldn’t completely unhinge the man.

 

“I’m not Damien. Colonel, I’m so sorry, but Celine and Damien are dead,” he said as softly as he could.

 

Dark would never forget how painful it was to see pure anguish come across Will’s face.

 

“No… no please. They can't be dead.” His voice was hushed. “They're playing a prank on me. That's all this is. They're not dead.”

 

His face contorted.

 

“Y-You’re wrong!!”, the Colonel roared. “They’re not dead, they can’t be! It’s just a joke! They wouldn’t do that to me!”

 

The Colonel tore himself from Dark’s gentle hands and stormed out the room. 

 

“DAMIEN! CELINE!” He went to the nearest room to look for them, with Dark not far behind. “Please come out now! Don’t you know?? A joke isn’t funny anymore if it goes on for too long!!”

 

Dark tried to get his attention again. “Colonel..”

 

“Celine??”

 

_ “Colonel.” _

 

The Colonel was near hysterics at this point, his voice growing unsteadily higher. “DAMIEN??”

 

**“COLONEL!”**

 

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT, ONLY MY FRIENDS ARE ALLOWED TO!” he snapped as he turned on Dark.

 

His eyes flitted down to the cane in Dark’s hand and he lunged to snatch it out of his hand. “And this isn’t yours either! This is Damien’s!” He clutched the cane to his chest.

 

“William...please”

 

Will fell silent. Nothing was making sense. This was all just a joke, just a prank, why weren’t they laughing with him? Will couldn’t comprehend it, he just couldn’t understand.

 

Will trembled. “I didn’t kill them, did I? Everyone is still alive, aren’t they? They have to be, they have to be, they can’t be dead. But did I kill them? Was it me? I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it.”

 

He sank to the floor, his grief too heavy for him to stand. Dark followed him down, his hands now supporting the man in front of him.

 

“Will, you… you didn’t kill them, but they’re not alive, not like they used to be.”’

 

“H- How do you mean?”

 

“They’re here with me. They can see you through my eyes. They are dead, but they are still here because they love you. They adore you, William.”

 

William’s small composure cracked as tears began to flow steadily down his cheeks.

 

“Can't you bring them back?”

 

Dark removed Will’s glasses and began to wipe away his tears, his hands encompassing his face.

 

“I'm all that's left.”

 

Will slowly slumped forward, letting the cane fall from his grasp as his body was wracked with sobs.

 

Dark felt the two souls nearly tear themselves in their grief for their friend. The pain of it ripped through his chest and he knew that this man was truly his friend. He needed to comfort him. He didn’t know this man, yet at the same time he did. It was instinct.

 

He took his friend into his arms and gently rocked him as he wept silently with him.

 

They stayed on the floor crying and wailing into each other’s arms until they couldn’t anymore.

 

Dark runs his hand through Will’s hair over and over again, soothing him, trying his best to keep them both grounded.

 

Will swallows the dry lump in his throat as he buries his face into Dark’s neck and breathes in his scent. He moves his hands up and down Dark’s back. Dark was familiar, this was his friend. His only friend now. 

 

Dark pressed a soft kiss to Will’s temple and slowly got up. “Let’s go.”

 

Will picked up the cane and followed after him. “Where to?”

 

Dark opened the door of the manor and they both stepped out.

 

“Away from here.”

 

\---

\---

 

Wilford’s laughter trails off and Dark can see tears glimmering in his eyes, threatening to fall over.

 

Dark embraces him like he did so long ago as his friend bubbles into a new fit of laughter.

 

He holds him as his laughs dissolve into bitter sobs, as he falls apart in his arms.

 

It’s been years since Wilford has been reduced to tears like this and Dark knows that even though Wilford had forgotten who the cane belonged to and who the people in the photograph were, he would always hold so much love for the friends he wouldn’t ever see again. He would always have so much pain buried in his heart for them.

 

But Dark would be there for him, like he was at the start of it all. He would hold his friend together until he could get back up on his own feet again.

 

Dark knows that Wilford would always be there in his time of need too.

 

Sometimes, he can feel the souls wriggling inside him, trying to claw their way out, desperate for their own bodies, desperate for revenge. He can feel himself unraveling at the seams and it  _ hurts _ . 

 

Wilford always seemed to know when to be there for him at times like those. He would sit in front of him and hold his hands, rubbing his thumbs over his palms. They would sit like that for hours sometimes, Wilford whispering soothing words to Dark, until the hurt went away. It seemed to be the only time that Wilford could be at peace as well.

 

They needed each other.

 

Wilford’s hitching breath begins to even out. Dark continues to stroke his hair as Wilford calmed down.

 

The storm had passed.

 

\---

\---

 

The cane and the photographs collect dust as the years pass. Dark and Wilford’s fits become far and few in between. They are accustomed in their new lives. 

 

It wasn’t until an ego began flashing around his fancy new hand mirror that memories of an old, ornate, cracked mirror resurface in Dark’s mind.

 

It had been so long. Waves of guilt crash through him, much more severe than it had been at the very beginning.

 

He decides to visit an old friend.

  
  


The manor is in near shambles from neglect, but this isn’t surprising to anyone, least of all Dark. He steps into the front door and shudders at how awful the place feels. It reeks of despair and chaos. He hates it. But he doesn’t plan on staying long.

 

He looks at the mirror before him, the light glinting off it catching his eyes. He walks up to it.

 

“Are you there?” he asks softly.

 

The DA’s face appears, angry and sharp.

 

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that it took so long. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I would like to make amends if you’ll let me.”

 

The mirror’s face softens and they speak, their voice quiet.

 

_ “You left me here for years and you never once thought to come back? I'm not even mad anymore that you tricked me, but to leave me in  _ **_this house?_ ** _ ” _

 

The DA turns from him, not wanting to face him. Small hairline cracks appeared along the edges of the mirror’s surface.

 

Dark could see his friend trembling with the weight of years of isolation. Dark won't ever forgive himself for this.

 

“You didn't deserve this. I'm so sorry.” 

 

Dark reaches a hand out to press flat against the surface. He’s almost overwhelmed when he sees his friend return the gesture.

 

The DA’s voice is thick with tears.  _ “I don't have it in me to forgive you right now. In fact, it might be a good long while before I do. But truth be told, I'm just- so happy you're finally here.” _

 

Dark struggles to push down the lump in his throat and gives a watery smile. “I'm glad too.”

 

The two stay like that for a moment, until the DA asks softly,  _ “How's the Colonel? Is he ok?” _

 

“He actually goes by Wilford now.”

 

The DA hums,  _ “A good name. It suits him.” _

 

“If you'd like, you can see him.”

 

_ “You're not thinking of bringing him here, are you? That wouldn't be a good idea.” _

 

“I was thinking that I could bring you with me instead.”

 

The DA snaps their head up to face Dark.  _ “A-Are you serious? Out of this house?” _

 

Dark was already collecting the few shards of mirror from where they had fallen to the floor. He carefully puts them in his pocket. He would fix it up when they got home.

 

He carefully takes the mirror off the wall and holds it with care as he and his friend leave the manor.

 

“Yes, my friend, out of this house for good.”

 

\---

\---

 

Dark carefully crafts the shards back into the mirror until he was satisfied that it was truly complete.

 

He hangs it in the living room above the fireplace. He hopes his friend will be comfortable there since the living room saw the most people. He figures that his friend shouldn’t be kept cooped up in some small room after all these years.

 

Wilford saunters up next to Dark.

 

“Say Darky, what’s this you got here?”

 

“It’s a mirror Wil.”

 

“Well obviouslyyy, but I am inquiring as to why??”

 

“Didn’t you feel that something was missing here? I think this mirror fits quite nicely.”

 

“Hmmm I suppose you’re right, though I have to say, it feels quite odd.”

 

“Does it?”

 

Dark and the DA decided it was best if they didn’t reveal themselves to Wilford at the moment. While it has been some time since Wilford has had a fit, Dark doesn’t want to shock him like this. When the time is right, Dark can reintroduce their friend to him.

 

“Hmmm yess, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Wilford twirls the ends of his moustache inquisitively. 

 

Dark wraps an arm around Wilford’s shoulders. “You’ll find out one day, Wil.”

 

The three of them stay there in that peaceful moment.

 

Despite everything, they still had each other.

 

They would be there for one another when memories rear its ugly head and leave them trembling and weak.

 

They would build each other up, so that they can come out stronger every time.

 

They have to do it.

 

They're all they have.

 

They’re all that’s left.

 

\---

\---

**Author's Note:**

> wkm wrecked me y'all, I still get so sad when I think about it.  
> Edit: We hit 100 kudos!!! Thank y'all so much!!


End file.
